


Boar

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Legolas wants a pet.





	Boar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The negotiations go well enough—the current volumes of Dorwinion wine will continue their delivery. Thranduil offers Dale a modicum of protection in exchange, and though its lord offers more, the wine is all they have that interests Thranduil. It will be enough. It’s only marginally worth visiting for, but then, he figures it does his guards good to see the filth of Men—let it be a reminder to keep their realm pure.

As he turns off the street to the square behind the reception building, elves gracefully part to allow Thranduil access to his well-guarded son. He’s found it better to leave Legolas here in the garden, rather than expose him to the copious amounts of alcohol needed to survive such tedious treaties. On Thranduil’s last visit, Galion supervised Thranduil’s toddler in a patch of lush grass.

The gardens have changed somewhat in the coming years, and Legolas has grown enough to run about himself. To Thranduil’s instant stab of worry, he isn’t in the immediate square. Thranduil shoots an automatic glare at the closest guard, who pales and nods towards a pen just beyond the garden’s knee-high stone gate. Fresh trees block most of the dirt patch from view, but Thranduil takes swift steps towards it, and the rest of the pen comes into the picture.

Just at the edge of the gate, Thranduil halts, horrified. Legolas glances over his little shoulder, donning a bright smile at seeing his father. The writhing beast in his lap lets out a horrid squeal.

Legolas is sitting in the dirt, his silver robes stained all up his chest, the ends of his golden hair caked in mud, and a pig in his lap. A _pig_. The imagine ingrains itself in Thranduil’s scandalized mind. The creature is only an infant no longer than Legolas’ forearm, but it’s dirty enough for a boar after a hunt. Legolas has on arm around it, the other idly petting its head. Thranduil can already see that Legolas’ previously pristine nails have dirt underneath them. Like some common peasant.

Worse than that. He’s sitting in the _mud_ like an _animal_. Thranduil makes a mental note to severely punish all the guards that allowed such impropriety to occur.

As Thranduil is still too frozen with revulsion to say a word, Legolas chirps, “Can I keep her, Ada?”

Without even pausing to think, Thranduil snaps, “You most certainly may _not_.” But then Legolas’ enormous blue eyes fill with hurt, and Thranduil has to force himself to restrain his temper and add curtly, “If you wish for animal companionship, I will find you an elk.” _Any_ creature from their woods would be a better choice, but Thranduil’s always found elks to be particularly elegant. Pigs, on the other hand, are the exact opposite. They’re the dwarves of the animal kingdom.

Legolas insolently twists his face and whines, “But I want _this_ one. She’s so cute!”

Thranduil has to fight to restrain his fury. He forces himself to take a deep breath, and then he begrudgingly steps over the stone barrier and kneels down before Legolas. He’s careful to keep his own hair above the ground level. He would like to keep his hands equally as clean, but fortunately, he’s worn gloves in the face of Dale’s colder climate, and he reaches over Legolas to take hold of the pig. It’s absurdly heavy for how tiny it is, but then, Thranduil knows this species to be particularly gluttonous. He sets it down on the ground out of Legolas’ reach and says with finality, “She will have a good life here.” He neglects to tell Legolas just what Men do with such creatures—that’s a separate horror for another time. 

Legolas visibly wilts, but Thranduil still sternly commands, “Come, now. We are leaving.” He rises before Legolas can protest again, but he waits there, making it clear he won’t tolerate excuses. Legolas looks thoroughly put out, and for a split second, it triggers a spasm of guilt in Thranduil’s chest, but he hurriedly stomps it down. He has no intention of allowing his son and heir to grow up as filthy as Men.

Just before they leave, Legolas runs back to quickly embrace the piglet, and then he’s at Thranduil’s side again before there’s any time to stop it. Thranduil levels a glare at each guard in turn, making it clear that repeating this story will only compound their troubles.

They pass a goat on the way out of town, and Thranduil quickly scoops Legolas up into his arms, deciding that next time, he’ll secure his wine supply alone.


End file.
